


see what we can be if we press fast forward

by helsinkibaby



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, Het, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 15:58:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6335188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts with a Friday night at a bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	see what we can be if we press fast forward

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Porn Battle Prompt Stack - as always, failure with the porn of it all!
> 
> Prompts used : Scotch, wine, tie, shirt, hair, regrets

This is how it starts. 

It's late on a Friday night and they are the only two left in the office. Jack is at a sleepover, while Will has the boys for the first full weekend since he moved out. Hotch is in the office because he always has paperwork to catch up on, JJ is in the office because the last thing she wants to do is go home to an empty house. Hotch knows this, because Hotch knows everything, and he comes to her office at ten o'clock partly to check on her, partly to make her go home and get some rest. 

When she refuses, when she points out that he's not exactly rushing to go home either, he says words that surprise even him. "Let's go get a drink." 

There is surprise on her face, just like there is surprise in her voice when she says yes when he knows she means to say no. 

They go to a bar near the office,one that's crowded with people at that hour on Friday night but, mercifully, no-one who knows them, most people from their office deciding to go further afield for their after work drinks. She orders wine, he orders Scotch and they sip their drinks slowly as they stand at the bar, moving to a table when one becomes available. They talk about everything but work, everything but her impending divorce and by the time the first drink blends into the second, JJ looks more relaxed than she has in weeks, maybe even months.

He goes to the bar for the third drink, comes back to find another man in his seat, staring at JJ with unmistakable interest. A twist of something that he recognises as jealousy flares in his stomach and he decides to blame it on the scotch. He places the drinks down on the table in front of them, places his own down with considerably more force than hers and gives the interloper his best glare. Meanwhile, JJ is doing a little deflecting of her own, placing her hand on Hotch's arm, staring up at him like he hung the moon and saying, "This is Aaron... I was just telling you about him." Hotch shifts on his feet so that his gun is clearly visible and the interloper seems to realise he's up against something that he'd really rather not get into and slinks away. 

"Was I interrupting?" He knows he wasn't so he's only teasing her and she laughs, rolls her eyes. 

"God, no. But thank you for the rescue." Her hand lingers on his arm and she's still smiling up at him and there's a twist of something else in his stomach that he also decides to blame on the alcohol. 

Just like he decides to blame the alcohol when he places his hand on her back, lets it slide down, just like he blames it when she slightly leans into his touch. 

Just like he decides to blame it when he walks her out to a cab, when he holds her hand, when he slides in beside her and they both go to his place. 

By the time her back is pressed against his bedroom wall, her lips on his, by the time that his fingers are tangled in her hair as hers go to work on his tie, moving rapidly on to the buttons of his shirt, he's decided to stop blaming the alcohol and start thanking it instead. Because there's no reason to place blame on anything that feels as good as her lips on his neck, that sounds as good as the gasp of pleasure that leaves her throat when his fingers slide underneath the waistband of her pants, leaving her arching against him. Her fingers clutch his shoulders as he works her inexorably towards the precipice and when she falls over, he catches her, all but carries her towards his bedroom where he brings her to that same precipice as many times as he can. 

By the time the sun comes up, she's more than returned the favour. 

This is how is starts, in a bar on a Friday night. 

It ends with no regrets. 

Because, by mutual agreement, it doesn't end.


End file.
